October Sunset
by Rainbow Breaker
Summary: It's after the war. Draco Malfoy escapes to the Astronomy Tower for a bit of piece and quiet. Whe n he gets there, he finds Hermione Granger. It appears she's wearing excessive makeup and crying her eyes out. What's happened to Gryffindor's Princess? When did she get tired of being the good girl? A Dramione One-Shot.


**A/N: The "Hermione gets tired of being good" cliché. Here's my take on it. Thank you for reading. The pretty cover was designed by Lynessa Black! Thank you so much! **

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter

October Sunset

I swaggered down the corridor with all the ease and time in the world.

I was back at Hogwarts to repeat my seventh year. I had been pardoned of all my accusations, and my life had sunk into obscurity. There was no more Dark Lord to work for; no more secrets to keep; even the miserable Mark on my arm had started to fade. To add to the oddity of life, I had been named Head Boy. McGonagall thought that giving me a position of authority would turn me into a model citizen.

Not to say that I had completely changed. I was Draco Malfoy. I was the Slytherin Prince, and things were going to stay that way. I just no longer believed that Mudbloods deserved to be punished for their blood, and I had begun to hate the Death Eaters who had raised me to believe that way.

I was a free man. No Pansy to cling to me, my father didn't dare to command me after what had happened, and I was not going to be sent to Azkaban. I could make my own choices.

I walked down the corridor until I reached the stairwell of the Astronomy Tower. I often went there to get away and to see the sky. It was sunset by now, and it was the month October. Anyone, who knows anything of life, knows that there is nothing more beautiful than the October sunset.

I climbed the steps easily and pushed the door of the Astronomy Tower open. Golden light flooded the room as I walked inside. The light temporarily blinded me, but the isolation was marvelous. I breathed out a sigh of relief at my new found privacy, but a sniffle in the corner shattered the serenity. I jerked my head around to see who else was there. It was Hermione Granger.

She looked like a mess. Her eyes were blood red from crying. She had obviously applied heavy makeup. Mascara was running down her cheeks as it mingled with her tears. Black eyeliner was smeared around her eyes from where she had wiped at them. She had straightened her long bushy hair, and she had put red streaks into it. I wasn't sure of what look she had been going for, but she looked horrible. She glanced up at me with watery, overly made-up eyes.

"What are you doing here, Granger?" I asked her as I continued to take in her look. She twirled a piece of red hair in her hands nervously.

"I. . . I had to get away," she croaked out. Her gaze dropped to her lap as she curled herself more protectively in a corner, pushing her new black boots under herself.

"What would the Gryffindor Princess have to run away from?" I scoffed. She let out a shaky sigh.

"Everything," she whispered. The honesty in her voice startled me so I slumped down against the wall close to her.

"I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that, Granger," I told her flatly. Her look was that of pure exasperation. She wiped at the mascara streaks down her face, but she only managed to smudge them more.

"What's the first thing you think when you think of me, Malfoy?" She asked quietly.

"I don't think of you," I assured her quickly. She gave me a fatal glance.

"If you were to describe me?" She tried again. I stared at her in thought while I considered. The golden sunlight played upon the cherry red lipstick she had applied.

"Bookworm," I said firmly. She shook her head at me, but a sad smile tugged at her blood red lips.

"What else?" She demanded. I gazed at her thoughtfully. Right now the first word that came to my mind was 'mental,' but I knew that would never do.

"You're a Gryffindor. A girl," she scoffed at that one. "A blasted goody-two-shoes." She let out a strangled cry. I cringed a little as I wondered what I had done.

"There. That's it," she declared indignantly as the tears started to flow freely down her face.

"What's it?" I asked bemusedly staring at Gryffindor's broken Princess.

"I'm tired of everyone thinking that I'm so good all the time," she cried out. I tilted my head in confusion as I rested against the cold, stone wall.

"You're mental, Granger. I don't understand," I said. She narrowed her painted eyes at me.

"No one asked you to understand, Malfoy," she spat. She used the hem of her robe to wipe away some of her black tears before settling back into her corner. I silently fingered the hem of my own robe a moment before answering.

"Why would you be tired of being good?" I asked softly. Granger turned her blood shot eyes at me.

"I got tired of being used," she shrugged her shoulder. I looked at her in bewilderment, and she continued. "Everyone always thinks that they can come to me for help on homework or to get them out of trouble with a teacher. I don't even know if I have any real friends besides Harry and Ron, but even they don't have much time for me. I just wanted a change. To show people that I'm not a push over," she said sullenly. I appraised her drastic appearance.

"And that's why you . . . got a makeover?" I finished lamely. Hermione nodded vigorously, causing her garishly decorated hair to fall into her tear-stained eyes.

"I thought that if I changed my look completely then people would notice me. Maybe if I looked like a stereotypical 'bad girl' people would want to get to know me. They would think that I'm interesting. People would want to know my favorite color and what I do in my free time, rather than wanting the answers to our homework," she explained. Her eyes threatened to spill over with tears again.

I sighed as I scooted closer to her. I conjured a wet towel into my hands and began to wipe the mascara stains from her face. Her dark eyes watched me quietly.

"You've always been interesting, Granger," I assured as I gingerly wiped the caked up makeup away from her face. "And it was because you were so kind." She squirmed away from the towel.

"What's the point in being kind if people are going to take you for granted?" She asked angrily. I held my gaze with hers as she crossed her arms. I could feel my stare burning into her brown eyes.

"People never fail to take what's better than them for granted, Granger," I said solemnly. She said nothing as I continued to wipe the smears off of her face.

"I thought you were bright," I drawled as I endeavored to get the smudges off of her cheeks.

"I thought you were evil," she countered. She sniffled as she settled again into her corner.

"Whatever gave you that idea?"I smirked. She stared at the faded Mark on my arm.

"I guess I'm not so bright," she whispered hoarsely. Her gaze flickered away from my arm and fell to her lap. I said nothing but rubbed with more force at the stains on her cheeks.

She allowed it for a few minutes in silence before she pulled away again.

"Do you think I made a mistake, Malfoy?" she asked sincerely, gesturing to her changes. Her eyes shined out from under her dark makeup.

"Did your plan work? Did people care what your favorite color was or the fact that you spend all your free time in the library?" I asked. She dipped her head down in embarrassment.

"No," she whispered. "They only wanted to know what spells I used for my makeup and hair." I looked at her.

"I think you made a mistake, Granger," I told her earnestly. "You shouldn't change just to make people like you. They wouldn't even be interested in the real you, just the changes that you've made." I tried to wipe at her face again, but I was distracted by the red streaks in her hair.

"Do you like it?" She asked once she noticed I was staring.

"It was prettier the other way," I shrugged. Her eyes widened at me in surprise.

"No one's ever said that my natural hair was pretty," she observed. I could sense the accusation in her voice.

"Then no one's ever bothered to tell you the truth," I whispered. Hermione looked at me with an unreadable expression in her eyes.

"You're different, Malfoy," she said. I pulled my wand out of my pocket and placed it gingerly on her face.

"And you're exactly the same," I observed. I whispered a spell to clean her face and change her hair. Soon, her shining face framed by her bushy hair was turned to me.

"Thanks," she murmured. She dipped her head down which caused a frizzy curl to fall into her face.

"Never thought you'd be the type to care what others think of you," I observed as I went back to my spot by the wall.

"It's that they don't think of me," she countered bitterly. A pang of guilt hit me as she threw my previous words back at me.

"Maybe you're brighter than I thought," I mused out loud. She nodded her head.

"Maybe," she agreed. I moved closer to her as the guilt continued to gnaw at me.

"You know you don't have to try so hard to have friends, Granger," I told her seriously. She looked up at me in puzzlement.

"What do you mean?" she questioned me.

"You're interesting just the way you are. People want to know you," I shrugged a shoulder. Granger huffed at me.

"Like who?" she said venomously. A smirk slowly curled my lips.

"What do you like to do in your free time, Granger? Besides going to the library?" I asked her. Granger stared at me with wide eyes.

"I'm writing a book," Granger admitted. It was my turn to look astonished.

"Really?" I asked. "Like a text book?" Granger scoffed at me. She twirled one of her frizzy curls around her index finger.

"I have other interests besides academics, Malfoy," Granger sniffed superiorly. I gave her a dubious glance.

"So what are you writing about, then?" I prodded her. Granger's eyes lit up.

"It's sort of historical fiction, but the Muggles won't know that," Granger explained. I tilted my head at her.

"What are you on about?" I asked, bewildered. Granger gave me an exasperated look.

"I'm writing a fictional book, but it will include magic. I'm going to release it in the Muggle world. They like that sort of thing, and they'll have no idea that the magic bit is real," Granger explained. I gazed at Granger.

"I didn't know that you wrote," I observed offhandedly. Granger gave me another one of her self-righteous expressions.

"There's a lot that you don't know about me, Malfoy," Granger said stubbornly. I considered that for a moment.

"What's your favorite color, Granger?" I asked quietly. She gave me a smile.

"Red," she shrugged. I rolled my eyes at her jokingly.

"Predictable," I complained. She smiled again. I leaned in closer to her.

"What's your favorite color, Malfoy?" She asked softly as her eyes scanned my face.

"Red," I whispered. Her eyes widened as my lips captured hers in a kiss. After a moment, her eyes fluttered closed and mine followed. She returned the kiss, but I pulled back after a moment.

"Kissing me was a much easier way to get your 'bad girl' image, Granger," I smirked. She let out a laugh. I watched, mesmerized, as her normal, completely makeup-free brown eyes sparkled with laughter. It was then that I realized that I was very wrong.

There was one thing that was more beautiful than the October sunset.

I leaned forward to kiss her again.


End file.
